


The Army is for the Birds

by WildClover27 (PrairieFlower)



Category: Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrairieFlower/pseuds/WildClover27
Summary: Can a little 'exercise' be conducted without a little larceny?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Army is for the Birds

**Author's Note:**

> All non-canon characters are my own and not to be used in other people's work.

It was early afternoon when Lt. Garrison entered the mansion. His meeting had been unproductive as far as he was concerned, but the drive back from London in the open jeep and the fresh scent of spring had lightened his mood tremendously. It had been a hard winter in more ways than one for all of them. Even though there was no end in sight for this war, the weather and return of life in the countryside gave a little hope for him and for England.

The good mood turned to suspicion when he looked around the common room. First, it was empty. Second, there was no noise from within the house. A call of hello brought no response. Craig walked into the kitchen and caught the sounds of construction. Somebody was pounding nails from the sounds of it. Really curious now, he let himself out the back door and stopped at the top of the steps to take it all in. 

Chief was wielding a pickax into the thickly weed-filled ground by the side wall. He was shirtless and glistening sweat. A wide area had already been dug up indicating this had been going on for awhile. Terry, in blue jeans he hadn’t known she had here and one of Goniff’s army-issued teeshirts, was behind the Indian with a garden fork, working the dirt and freeing it of clumps of vegetation, tossing the weeds into a nearby old wheelbarrow. Goniff was behind her with a rake, smoothing the dirt.

The construction noise came from his other two men. By the gazebo, Casino was sawing boards on a pair of sawhorses that had seen better days. Actor was working on a rickety wooden ladder, nailing chicken wire to a frame built around what appeared to be a chicken coop. With his natural height, he was only required to go up a couple rungs of the ladder to reach the top of the frame. Both men wore old army issue khaki pants. Casino had an army issue tee-shirt on, soaked with sweat. The normally fastidious con man wore an equally sweat stained light blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to tightly band muscular deltoids, and half of his shirttail hanging out.

Garrison wondered how his sister had talked them into heavy manual labor when he had to fight just to get them to run the obstacle course. The next thing that caught his attention were their supplies and tools. The garden tools and hand tools looked old and well used. Even the wood on the chicken coup and the frame was weathered. The chicken wire was bright and shiny. You couldn’t buy that now days; not with all the metal being recycled into the war effort.

Craig casually approached his second and his safecracker. Casino gave him a nod of acknowledgment but continued his work, so Craig strolled over to Actor’s ladder.

“Nice job,” he said calmly.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” replied the con man, continuing to nail. “Casino is restoring the hen house. I am merely pounding nails to repair the fencing.”

Garrison waited for Actor to finish and reach for another nail from his pants pocket before asking, “And where did you find the wire?”

The Italian shrugged dismissively, “It was lying around.”

“Just lying around,” said Garrison. 

He walked over to a partial roll of wire with a tag on it. Actor glanced at Casino behind his back. The safecracker rolled his eyes. Craig flipped the tag over. U. S. Army. Craig turned slowly around and eyed his crew narrowly.

“All right! Time out! All of you!” he yelled above the noise.

There was dead silence. Craig motioned with his hand for the three doing the groundwork to come over. Actor stayed, resting sideways, on the ladder. Casino straightened and laid the saw down, rubbing a dirty arm across his dripping forehead. Terry walked up to stand beside Actor. She reached up and took hold of his dangling shirttail and wiped her forehead with it, earning a dirty look and a swipe of his hand that she nimbly jumped back from.

“This wire is property of the United States Army.” started Garrison.

“Yeah, yeah,” Casino interrupted, “so are we. You keep tellin’ us.”

Terry had the lack of grace to barely stifle a laugh at that. A glare from the con man put her in her place.

Actor turned to the officer with a pleasant smile. “Warden, this estate is also property of the United States Army until the end of the war. We are merely making needed repairs and improvements to the property. The army should be responsible for the cost of the repairs we are making.”

“That may be,” said Craig, eyes locking on the innocent look in the con man’s. “However, I didn’t requisition it.”

“A minor technicality,” dismissed Actor.

“Where did you get it?” asked Craig. He was almost afraid to ask.

“It was just layin’ around, Warden,” said Chief.

“They ‘ad a lot of it. We didn’t think they’d miss a couple rolls,” added Goniff.

Garrison’s gaze slowly made its way around the group. All were looking too innocent, except Chief who looked as stoic as ever. “You broke into an army base?” Garrison asked incredulously.

“Not exactly,” hedged Casino.

“How . . . exactly?”

Actor took over the story. “We dressed Goniff in one of your uniforms and covered him with a blanket in the back of the car. At the gate, I told the guard you were ill, and we were taking you to the base hospital. You were asleep and we did not wish to disturb you, so I gave him your papers.”

“My papers?” repeated Craig.

“They was on your desk, Warden,” said Goniff brightly. “We just borrowed ‘em.”

“They are never lying on my desk. They are kept in my safe,” contradicted Craig. 

He looked at Casino. The safecracker shrugged and gave him a look like what did he expect?

“Go on,” said Craig. “You couldn’t have just driven out with the wire.”

“Aw no, Warden,” continued Goniff brightly. “Chiefy ‘eaved ‘em over the fence and Casino tied ‘em together and ‘auled ‘em away.”

Actor tried to take the story back. “We waited an appropriate amount of time and drove the Lieutenant out. We then drove around to where Casino was and secured the rolls to the top of the Packard.”

Garrison cringed at the thought of explaining how the paint had been scratched off the top of the car. 

Chief seemed to read his mind. “Don’t worry, Warden,” the Indian drawled. “Terry gave us an old blanket. We wrapped the rolls up before we tied ‘em down. Ain’t a scratch on the car.”  
Craig turned his attention to his sister. “And I suppose you went along.”

“Nope,” replied the girl. “Somebody had to stay here to get them out of the stockade if something went wrong.” She eyed her brother with a cocky grin. “Are you going to get out of that uniform and into something dirty and come help us? You’re going to be eating the products of this labor too.”

“Yeah, Warden,” piped up Casino. “All that paper shufflin’ you do at your desk, you need a work out. Getting’ a little flabby there, Babe.”

Garrison turned outraged eyes on the safecracker who was grinning at him insincerely. He looked around the group. Goniff was cackling delightedly. The other three were having a hard time hiding grins of their own. The officer turned and with the best military bearing he could muster, strode toward the house. They couldn’t see the grin that covered his face. He sure had picked a bunch when he had chosen each of them. Now if he could just find a ratty pair of fatigues and an old tee-shirt, he could join them.


End file.
